Chapter 166.1: The Awards Ceremony Ends
Shen Xiu blurted out, “Why would there not be enough time?”
Was she implying he’d slack off on his thesis just to shoot a film?
Just as that thought flashed through everyone’s minds, the next second, they heard Shen Xiu’s familiar cold voice ring out:
“Most of the coursework was completed before junior year. Only a small portion remains, and there’s plenty of time. As for the thesis…”
Thinking of how he had added extra chapters out of boredom, Shen Xiu cautiously adjusted the number down:
“I’ve finished ninety-five percent of it.”
Finished… the thesis?
Host: “?”
Guests: “？”
[?]
[Is this some sort of cold joke from Boss Xiu?]
[Ha! Call him a big shot and he really starts acting like one. Typical junior—hasn’t even experienced senior year yet. Doesn’t know that thesis topics are only assigned in the second semester of senior year. The advisors haven’t even shown their faces yet, let alone given us the scope for our topics. What a load of bull.]
[Bull your grandpa’s leg. As a classmate of Boss Xiu, let me tell you—he really did finish it. He even wrote multiple papers. His level of academic grind will make you feel ashamed of your existence.]
[Honestly, doesn’t sound like a joke. I mean, when it comes to studying, Boss Xiu never cracks jokes…]
[Normal students write their theses in the second semester of senior year—some even procrastinate until a few weeks before the defense. How could anyone possibly… Wait, hold up. Honest question: does the God of Overachievement even count as a normal student like the rest of us?]
[Maybe… probably… nope, not even close.]
Even the host, like some of the audience, thought Shen Xiu was telling a cold joke. After recovering from the surprise, she laughed a few times and said,
“Ha ha… Mr. Shen, you’re truly humorous. That cold joke landed perfectly.”
Whether it was the guests at the venue or the audience in the livestream, they were all clearly “frozen” in place.
Shen Xiu: “?”
He wasn’t joking!
To avoid being misunderstood as someone who slacked off academically just to act in films, Shen Xiu emphasized his tone and looked toward both the audience at the venue and those watching the livestream, explaining seriously:
“I wasn’t joking.”
Upon hearing Shen Xiu’s indifferent voice and feeling the chill of his emotionless gaze sweeping across the room, the audience: “……”
Under Shen Xiu’s stern and icy demeanor, it felt like a mountain was pressing down on them—no one could laugh anymore.
Naturally, no one thought Shen Xiu had been joking either.
As the host, she was the first to recover from the shock and followed up with a question:
“Mr. Shen, if the thesis topics haven’t been assigned yet, how can you already write one?”
Shen Xiu had already answered this question before—once to Ling Yuanzhen and once to his classmates. And he never forgot a question he’d previously addressed. For Shen Xiu, that meant he didn’t even need to pause to revise his words internally. He replied fluently and even with a touch of satisfaction:
“I can.”
“Based on an analysis of thesis topics from the past five years in our major, it’s clear that the topics are mostly variations of familiar terms, rearranged and rephrased. When combined with the current year’s coursework, it’s not difficult to predict the general themes of this year’s topics.”
“Furthermore, according to our department’s long-standing rules, the thesis topic doesn’t have to be limited to what the advisor provides. As long as the thesis aligns with our field and is closely related to the major, and is approved by the advisor, it can be accepted.”
Once the official thesis topics are released, he’ll simply choose one of his already-written papers that best matches his preferred topic, tweak a few details, and submit it.
Or, he might even submit his favorite thesis—one that fits the major well but falls outside the official list—and let his advisor review it for approval.
At their university, the rule was that the advisor would review the thesis a total of three times. Once the final review was passed, the student could proceed to the thesis defense, and only upon passing that would they receive their diploma.
Host: “……”
You can do that?!
Trust her—no normal university student would ever think of going this far!
Shen Xiu’s answer not only left the audience speechless, even the guests on stage were too stunned to say a word.
After finishing, Shen Xiu noticed that the host and the audience were all silently staring at him. He quickly began mentally replaying everything he had just said.
Three seconds later, after thoroughly reviewing his answer and finding absolutely nothing wrong with it, Shen Xiu cautiously asked:
“Was there a problem?”
According to the usual schedule, he was supposed to give an acceptance speech now. He was still holding the mic in his hand, so every word he spoke was being broadcast clearly across the entire venue.
Everyone saw Shen Xiu’s calm gaze sweep across the crowd. Then, hearing his composed question, they finally snapped out of their shock.
And, almost in unison, a shared thought emerged in their minds—
Was there a problem? Of course not.
After all… this is Shen Xiu we’re talking about.
As long as it’s Shen Xiu, then it’s fine.
The host tugged at the corners of her mouth, forcing a smile as she shook her head:
“Haha… No problem at all, of course not!”
Shen Xiu finally relaxed and nodded in acknowledgment: “Good.”
As he thought—how could he possibly have answered wrong on a question he’d already addressed before?
The host cleared her throat and, curious, asked:
“Then… Mr. Shen, would you mind telling us how many thesis topics you managed to guess, and how many papers you wrote?”
The audience immediately thought the host was right on point—she had asked the exact question they all wanted to know.
They were all wondering—just how many thesis topics had Shen Xiu predicted, and how many papers had he written, to speak so boldly of having over a 90% chance of accuracy?
Recalling the files stored on his notebook and cloud drive, Shen Xiu confidently gave two numbers: “Twenty-eight. Thirty-two.”
Host: “!”
“You mean… you predicted 28 thesis topics and wrote 32 papers?!”
Shen Xiu thought the host hadn’t heard him clearly, so he repeated with a nod: “Yes.”
Host: “W-When did you start?”
If she remembered correctly, back when she was in university, just one thesis was enough to give her entire class headaches. Everyone practically lived in the library, digging through translations and reference materials until they were ready to explode.
And yet Shen Xiu had quietly written thirty-two papers before even starting senior year?
What kind of monster is this?!
Terrifying.
Are all university students this extreme now?
The entire venue fell silent.
At that moment, whether in person or watching through a screen, everyone was struck speechless by Shen Xiu’s words—their collective silence was deafening.
Fang Mo: “……”
Right then, Fang Mo finally understood why his brother remained so loyal to Shen Xiu, even after Shen Xiu had been out of the picture for so long—without a shred of doubt or hesitation.
If Shen Xiu could be this meticulous and committed to something as minor as this, it was clear how thorough and strategic he must be when it came to truly important matters. He truly planned a hundred steps ahead for every move—no wonder he had never once made a misstep.
After a short pause, the silence was broken—by a wave of thunderous applause.
The host glanced at the time, and as the applause continued, she spoke with sincere well-wishes: “Thank you for your answer. We’re truly looking forward to your first film. Wishing you great success!”
Shen Xiu replied with quiet gratitude: “Thank you.”
Shen Xiu then looked toward the audience who had just applauded and wished him well. With heartfelt sincerity, he said: “Thank you, everyone.”
[What’s a knee? I’d gladly offer both hands too!]
[Twenty-eight—wait no, thirty-two papers?! My jaw’s on the floor! No wonder they call him the God of Grind—scratch that, he’s the Demon King Xiu. Truly a monster.]
[Pfft, just talk, right? Anyone can say they wrote 32 papers. I could say that too—should I be crowned now or later?]
[Exactly, if he really wrote them, show the papers. If he doesn’t post them, then he didn’t write them. Period.]
The livestream chat was overflowing with viewers from all fandoms. Among them were also sarcastic, snide remarks aimed at Shen Xiu.
However, given Shen Xiu’s consistent track record and demeanor, most reasonable viewers didn’t believe he was lying. Even before the Xiuologists could clap back, neutral viewers had already stepped up to defend him:
[What a nasty mindset. Posting unpublished theses? What if someone plagiarizes them? All that work wasted—and what if he ends up being falsely accused of plagiarism?]
[Exactly. Everyone knows that before a thesis passes the final defense and is uploaded officially, it shouldn’t be casually shared with anyone besides the advisor.]
[Are you kidding me? You think Shen Xiu needs to lie to look good?]
[Ha! You ignorant fools. You clearly know nothing about the power of our Demon King Xiu. Predicting thesis topics and writing a stack of them in advance? That’s child’s play for our almighty God of Grind.]
On stage.
Shen Xiu stepped out from under the spotlight, holding the trophy in his hands.
As he made his way toward the area reserved for him by the event organizers, he caught sight of Fang Mo reaching a hand out toward him.
Shen Xiu paused for a moment.
Thinking back to how, last time Liang Cheng won an award, everyone rushed to touch the trophy to “soak up the good luck,” Shen Xiu realized—Fang Mo was probably trying to do the same.
But—
Even though standing on stage to receive the award had been awkward… this was his own award. He hadn’t even had time to properly warm the trophy with his hands yet, and honestly, he wasn’t quite ready to let go of it.
Still, leaving Fang Mo hanging there awkwardly with his hand out didn’t seem very polite either.
Fang Mo, with his hand stretched out to receive the trophy: “……”
Great.
Mr. Shen didn’t hand over the trophy.
And the moment I reached out, he gave me that cold, piercing look instead. No movement at all.
Is he still mad at me for testing him earlier?
Fang Mo’s already-nervous heart clenched tighter with anxiety.
Noticing that they had now lingered under the stage for three seconds and people were beginning to look their way, Shen Xiu reluctantly placed the trophy into Fang Mo’s hands.
Forget it—how could he be so stingy over something like this?
Shen Xiu told himself, ‘The trophy’s mine anyway. Once I’m home, I can touch it all I want.’
As Shen Xiu handed over the trophy, Fang Mo let out a breath of relief.
‘Does this mean Mr. Shen has forgiven me?’
